Brit Wit

Published: August 11, 2002

(Page 4 of 4)

As affable as he is out of costume, Steve Coogan is deeply ambitious, but his ambitions don't seem driven by cash or fame. When McDonald's approached him a few years ago with an offer to do TV ads, Coogan told his agents to ''get them up to one million pounds, then say no.'' But the deal escalated. The offer at one point had reached a cool $3 million. The problem was, McDonald's wanted Coogan not as Coogan but as Alan Partridge.

Coogan would have none of it. ''Alan Partridge is the core of my credibility,'' he says. ''The character would be sold down the river. Hey, I'd like to be rich, but if I'm gonna sell my soul -- which I am prepared to do -- I'd need a nest egg. Partridge is my insurance, but more to the point, he's my integrity. If you muck with your core audience, they'll figure, 'Right, so he's no different from the rest of 'em!' ''

Slouching in Brighton, Coogan stares out his kitchen window at the backyard's perfect square of green, then, in an absurd burst of energy, leaps up to show me some videotapes. There's an almost schizoid feel to his double living room. One half is plush, cushiony sofas; the other is upholstered entirely in leather. (On the mantel, all alone, sits a single brick prized from the original Hacienda, signed in white ink with the name ''Anthony Wilson.'') Coogan pulls out a tape of his very first recorded stand-up performance -- a rambling series of dead-on impressions -- and shifts his weight from leg to leg as he watches. ''Slightly embarrassing,'' he murmurs. ''Horrible. I didn't know what the hell I was doing.''

He does now. After 12 months of work conceiving this latest set of six half-hour ''Partridge'' episodes, he's hoping that ''Party People'' will attain some cult status in the States. And there's even the possibility of doing the lead in a coming HBO film based on Roger Lewis's dark biography, ''The Life and Death of Peter Sellers,'' a role he finds irresistible.

If he doesn't land that part, it won't be out of comedic lassitude. These days, even beyond what his peers admire about him, Coogan is obsessed with the smallest details of his work -- everything from his timing to his teeth. ''See, I've had the two front ones filed down a bit since the last 'Partridge' series,'' he says, looking genuinely concerned. ''I hope that doesn't ruin the comedy.''

In a scene from '24-Hour Party People' that recreates a seminal 1976 Sex Pistols concert, Coogan turns to the camera and says, 'This is the moment when even the white man started dancing.'; Coogan as Tony Wilson, top, in ''24-Hour Party People,'' and as the smarmy Alan Partridge.